Upright
by ParadiseAvenger
Summary: Novelization of doujinshi. It was silly. It was about the ribbons... and about Soul... and about training and about her father and about working too hard and toying too much. It was about standing upright alone. Hell, it was about everything. SoulXMaka.
1. Maka's New Partner?

Novelization of the doujinshi, Upright.

Just like Rendezvous Pitch Maneuver, this is on a hentai site even though there is no sex in it. It can be found here: http: /www. fakku. net/viewmanga. php?id=3198 If you decide to read, enter without whining or otherwise complaining at your own risk.

**Look at me! I'm back from the dead! I am in Tennessee using hotel Wi-Fi so I'm not sure when I'll be back, but I'm alive and I'm okay. I'm updating! I'm on my way to Arizona with my Dad and my mom is rotten still, but I'm hanging in there. Thank you all for your wonderful support! Here is your reward!**

X X X

It had been a long hard day of training. Professor Stein had worked both Maka Albarn and her weapon-partner, Soul Eater Evans, to the bone. But, in a sense, it had also been easy training because Stein had only insisted they practice resonating with each other over and over while doing a few easy sets that Maka could already do in her sleep. But resonating with Soul had been taking a lot out of her lately and she knew Stein could tell—hence the endless practice.

She didn't know why they were having trouble either.

Normally, she and Soul were incredibly compatible despite their different personalities and normal teenage squabbles. Lately when she tried to resonate with Soul, he overpowered her. It was almost as if his soul was trying to devour her and draw her into himself. She wasn't frightened that Soul would ever hurt her, but it was exhausting to push back the waves of his soul as they washed over her own like a strong ocean current.

Exhausted, the meister and weapon left the training grounds while Stein smoked a few more cigarettes, puffing out skull-shaped clouds of smoke.

It was a hot summer day and Maka had even left her black overcoat at home, but Soul had his favorite yellow and red leather jacket zipped up to his throat. She had no idea how he wasn't dying of heat stroke, but he looked comfortable even in the piping sun. Maka fed some quarters into the vending machine back at the Academy and removed two cold drinks from the mouth of the machine.

She smiled slightly to herself as she recalled all the things that had happened at this soda machine. Kid had to be kept away from the machine because the fact that there were always different amounts of each drink on each side and that wasn't symmetrical in the least. He had had many a mental breakdown right here in front of it, spitting up blood and passing out like clockwork. There were dents in the front and side where BlackStar had beaten the crap out of it for not giving him a soda after he had given it money. On occasion, Patty had beaten the machine for the same thing, but Maka never had trouble with it. The machine was good to her and it was nice to Soul, too.

Maka leaned against the wall in the shadow of the machine and Soul plopped down on the cool concrete a few feet away from her. Even with that space between them, Maka still felt the wavelength of his soul washing over her shoulders and pulling at her.

Why was his soul so overpowering and strong lately? Why did he seem to be trying to absorb her into himself? Why was he so protective lately?

Maka decided to play with him a little and sipped her soda as she watched her partner do the same from the corner of her eye. She licked her lips and lowered the can. "Hey, Soul," she began. "I got an offer today. Someone asked me if I wanted to be their partner."

Soul didn't respond to her for a long moment and his crimson eyes slid to the side. The waves of his soul smashed into her sidelong, sucking at her skin and hair like some manner of breeze. For a moment, she thought he was worried about the thought of losing her to someone else, but he still didn't say anything. Only the waves of his soul gave away that he cared at all. He took a drink and Maka saw his pink tongue snake out to lick his lower lip.

"What should I do?" Maka asked him.

Soul's soul slithered against her side and abruptly pulled back as if burned by her.

'_What does she mean 'What should I do?'?'_ Soul demanded inwardly. Was she tired of being his partner? Or was it something else? Inside, Soul had always known that a part of Maka wanted to be with him because he was a scythe just like her father and that he was a convenient replacement for her father in her life. After all, she told him enough that Soul was the only man she trusted and she was obsessed with turning him into a weapon stronger than her father. She was using Soul to replace Spirit Albarn in everyone's lives.

But Soul wasn't Spirit…

"Why don't you just do whatever?" Soul forced out. Even though it would kill him to have to let her go, to watch her soul joining with someone else's and to take a different partner himself, he wasn't going to hold her back if she wanted to go.

Maka stared at him with her jade-green eyes wide. With the way his soul had been acting, that was the last thing she had been expecting to hear come out of his mouth. Her heartbeat began to race. Was he calling her out, catching her in a lie about her partner offer? Maybe he was mimicking how she got whenever she saw him get offers for new partners. Maka acted the same way Soul was acting now—indifferent and cool as a cucumber.

"Huh," she snapped flatly. "Maybe I'll take him up on his offer." She reclined against the wall, feeling the chill seeping into her skin and enjoying it after the heat and sweat of training. Man, was it ever hot. Maka embellished her fake-partner-offer with the traits she loved in all her friends. "He's smart and tall," she said because she loved that about Kid. "He's always smiling," she said because she loved that about BlackStar even if his flamboyant and ebullient attitude got on her nerves. "And he's pretty cool!" Damn, that wasn't supposed to get in there. That was Soul's trait. Scrambling, she covered her Freudian slip with the first thing that popped into her head. "Oh, and did I mention he's rich?" She leaned down to look into Soul's face but his expression gave nothing away.

"Uh-huh, good for you," Soul said with equal flatness. He took another drink and Maka watched his thin throat flash as he swallowed.

Disgruntled, she stared at him. There was no way he had figured out that she was bluffing. She could still feel his soul lashing around inside him, pulling at her occasionally. But why was he acting so cool then? What was up with him lately?

Maka threw her empty can into the trash with a clatter that was a little too loud in the silence of a summer afternoon. "Just kidding!" she said in a sing-song cheery voice.

"Huh?" Soul's eyes flit up to her face and he looked genuinely surprised by this admission. Had she really been playing with him? Just to see if she could hurt him, maybe? But why? Why would she do that to him? Soul didn't understand Maka, lately. She had been acting so weird.

"I was just kidding," Maka continued. "None of that was true. But you know, you could have said something to stop me. I mean, I was talking about finding a new partner." She was leaned down to look into his face. The shadows from the vending machine played across her cheeks and in her eyes.

"What's the point?" Soul asked her, voice rising. His soul was reaching out again. "You never listen to me once you've made up your mind."

"So what?" Maka shouted. "You should at least try!"

Soul turned his face away, eyes narrowing.

Her voice lowered. "You just don't get it, Soul." There was something strange in her soft voice. "And while we're on the subject, I don't want you throwing yourself in the way the next time someone attacks me—"

Soul turned his face back to her, eyes lifting up to her face. Her expression was strange, eyes closed and mouth set in a grim line.

"—though I guess you probably wouldn't listen, either, even if I asked you."

His silver brows drew together sharply. "Why the hell shouldn't I protect you?" he demanded.

"Because you'll die." Her gaze was farseeing, eyes glassy with something Soul thought was long put behind them.

Chrona. It all came back to the fight with Chrona, to the black blood in Soul's veins, to the horrible old wound bisecting his chest. It came back to Maka's guilt for bringing him into that stupid chapel in Italy where he almost died, back to his willingness to sacrifice himself for her, back to his bright red blood splattered all over the white marble floor and the new black blood in his veins. It always came back to this. Soul couldn't count on all his fingers and toes the number of times they had talked about this.

"A meister can't do anything without their weapon-partner. Even if you were to…" she hesitated, "take the blow for me, the moment you were down it would mean the end for both of us."

Soul tightened his grip on the cold can.

"It's better that you run and save yourself than to die needlessly," Maka said coldly. Why did her voice sound so ugly?

"You know," Soul began and couldn't keep the biting tone out of his own voice. He was hurt and he was almost angry. "The way I see it, you've been throwing the word 'partner' around." He set the can on the ground in front of him to disguise the fact that his hands were shaking.

Maka's green eyes were on him, drawn by the strangeness in his voice and by the way his soul was behaving. It felt almost _barbed_, prickly and unhappy. He was hurting and she had hurt him by playing this game with him.

"But from where I'm standing, it sounds like I'm nothing more than a tool to you."

His words stabbed into her chest like shards of glass.

X X X

I love how this was only the first seven pages. Could I have made it any longer, honestly?

Questions, comments, concerns?


	2. The Date?

**I'm so pleased to see that everyone missed me! I feel so special! I'm on my way to go live in Arizona, from Pennsylvania, with a dog, cat, and lizard. I didn't drag ass updating of my own free will. I had no internet so I just couldn't. That's why I put everything on hold and let you all know. I knew it would be a while! Everyone missed me! Happy, happy.**

X X X

SNAP! SNAP, SNAP, SNAP!

The sound was like bones breaking in the silence of the classroom. Maka cracked the handle of the mop for the fifth time and Tsubaki's nervous little voice piped up over the cracking of the poor wooden implement. It was Maka's and Tsubaki's turn to clean the classroom after training. (Tsubaki and BlackStar had been training as well today.)

"Maka?" Tsubaki ventured. "Um?"

By now, Maka had smashed two holes in the innocent wall and had the mop in six pieces. "ARGH!" Maka shouted, but not at Tsubaki. She seemed to be angry at someone who wasn't there. Maybe poor Soul was lying somewhere with his head dented in by a book.

"Maka—" Tsubaki ventured during the breaths Maka gasped for after her enraged shouting.

"WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT ABOUT?"

"—did—"

"THAT IDIOT!"

"—something—"

"THAT ASSHOLE!"

"—happen?"

"THAT'S NOT WHAT I MEANT AND YOU KNOW IT!" Maka continued shouting. "WHAT THE HELL DOES HE MEAN BY THAT? I DON'T GET HIM!" Then, Maka lifted her foot and sent one savage kick into the wall, creating a third giant dent.

"Please stop," Tsubaki ventured. Even she, who was used to dealing with BlackStar's loudness and brash behavior wasn't sure what to do about Maka. "Please."

Five dents and the mop in eight pieces later, Tsubaki had managed to get Maka sitting down and talking calmly. The older girl was sitting beside Maka, patiently waiting for some sort of explanation, but Maka seemed content to sulk. She had her arms wrapped around her legs like a child and a flush on her face from the exertions she had put on the mop and the wall.

"Did you have another fight with Soul?" Tsubaki asked.

Maka didn't answer, but her face flushed even pinker. A long moment of silence stretched out and then Maka finally began to speak. "I guess I've been on a short fuse lately," she said finally. "It's been going on for a while now… I can't put my thoughts into words. I can't get across what I'm trying to say to Soul very clearly. They sound fine in my head, but whenever I try to say them out loud, something changes."

Tsubaki's eyes widened and she suddenly asked with great excitement, "Maka, uh, um, do you get this weird tugging feeling in your chest every time you try to talk to him?"

"No," Maka said flatly.

"Ah," Tsubaki said sadly. "But you're partners and all, too…"

"I don't feel anything like that," Maka said coldly. "If anything, every look or gesture that he makes pisses me off. It gets on my nerves, the way he always pretends to be Mister Cool Guy." Maka's expression was so fierce that it gave Tsubaki the chills.

Even so, after a moment, Maka's expression smoothed out and she seemed to be thinking about something that drew a small smile on her face. 'Ah, but, he was kind of cool back then…' she admitted to herself. The music Soul had played for her on the piano drifted through Maka's head. It was such beautiful music and Soul had been so strapping in his pinstriped suit, his fingers so thin and frail on the keys that Maka was amazed he was honestly a weapon. The whole memory was beautiful.

There was a knock on the doorway and Tsubaki looked up to see Soul lingering in the threshold.

"Oh, Soul!" Tsubaki called out.

"You ready to go home yet?" Soul called to Maka.

"And you know what else, Tsubaki?" Maka continued as if Soul hadn't arrived. By now, Soul was only a few feet away and Maka got right in his face so that she could smell his breath. He must have just finished the soda because the scent of it was still on his lips. "Hey, Soul, hypothetical question? Do you think of me as potential girlfriend material?"

Soul's face looked honestly shocked. His blood-colored eyes widened, but even so he blankly and flatly said, "No, it'll probably never happen." And he didn't think it would. Why would Maka ever love him or even date him? She cared for him as only her weapon-partner, nothing more. She showed no interest in him besides using him to replace her father. He thought that was the correct answer to her hypothetical question, but he was wrong.

SMASH!

The spine of the book cracked down on his head and he collapsed like a house of cards, writhing in agony. A small cry of panic squeezed from Tsubaki's mouth as she looked down at Soul's crumpled form. There hadn't been any warning, no chance for him to duck and cover, before Maka chopped him.

"See what I mean?" Maka said to Tsubaki. "You're never supposed to say that to a girl! He sure knows how to push the right buttons." She turned away from Soul carelessly. "Oh, Soul, you can go home without me. I'm going to be out pretty late so I don't need dinner, either, okay?"

"Yes ma'am," Soul croaked out from his position strewn on the floor.

Tsubaki fussed over him while Maka walked away without a single glance back at her fallen partner. Maybe she was being just a little too careless, but she wasn't going to turn around and apologize. "Well, I'll see you later," she called as an apology instead.

Soul scraped himself off the floor, rubbed his head, and let out an exhausted sigh. He turned to watch Maka's back as she trotted away. He spied a glimpse of her white panties as she flounced away and quickly averted his eyes. Something must have shown in his face because Tsubaki asked him if he was alright.

Her pretty face was concerned, framed by her thick dark hair.

"Yeah," he said. "I'm used to it. It's no big deal." Then, he eyed the ruined wall and the shattered broom nervously.

…

Maka hustled through the streets of the necropolis, Death City, and gazed up at the laughing sun as he desperately fought off the call of an afternoon nap. It was still incredibly hot, but she stopped off at home to grab her black overcoat. It made her feel stronger and more secure and she was going to need all the emotional support she could get from it to survive this… date… What a dreaded horrible word! To think she had just been talking about getting a new partner and now she was afraid to go on a date. What was wrong with her?

Ugh, and her hypothetical question. Soul was always saying stuff like that so why did it bother her so much this time? It wasn't as if she hadn't been expecting his brutal answer, but it still pissed her off. He could have at least given it some thought rather than saying it like it was obvious, like she was repulsive or something.

Maka spied her reflection in the window she normally called Lord Death on and sighed as she picked one honey-colored pigtail off her shoulder. Maybe Soul did have a point, though, she relented as she studied her reflection. Her body was so thin and underdeveloped, no breasts and no curves to speak of. She even still wore her hair in goofy pigtails. She toyed with her hair as she leaned in closer to her reflection. Maybe if she did something with her hair…

"Maka!"

It seemed her dreaded date had arrived.

Maka turned around, still with a long honeyed strand twisted around one gloved finger.

"Sorry for the wait."

…

Soul bustled through his room, shuffling records and dusting off his record player, while his favorite headphones droned his favorite melody in his ears. Then, he shuffled from his bedroom and into the kitchen to take something out for his dinner. He spied Maka's wilting plant in the window and gave it a little water as he always did. (It was ridiculous that she even had a plant. She never watered it. It would be dead if not for Soul, but he supposed not everyone had a green thumb.)

Thinking of Maka reminded him that she had said she was going to be out late tonight and that she didn't need dinner. He put some of what he had been preparing to cook into the fridge since he didn't need to cook for Maka, too. What could she be doing? he wondered. She had been acting so strange lately—talking about getting a new partner, laughing at the weirdest times, getting mad for no reason. Honestly, what was up with her?

Soul hummed along with his song a little and adjusted the volume a little louder, as if he could drown out the thoughts of Maka, but he couldn't. He only wondered what she was doing again and then looked out the window as the sun sank below the horizon.

"So, what's she doing today?"

…

Maka turned to face her date, trying to keep the grimace like she had just met Excalibur off her face. "Ugh! Papa, you're late!" she snapped.

Lord Death's current weapon, stationed in Death City, Spirit Albarn looked like a sheepish one-star meister facing their first enemy in the face of his daughter. She was ten times as fierce as any Kishin, after all, and he actually cared what she thought about him—and she hated him! So it made life very complicated. Spirit was still reeling with the thought that she had even accepted to go out on a date with her oh-so hated father.

"So, where would you like to go?" Spirit ventured.

Maka had already turned on her heel and marched off.

"Huh? The bookstore again?" Spirit asked as he pushed through the door after his daughter. A smile tugged his lips as he watched her vanish among the many loaded shelves. She had already gathered a few books in his arms and was smiling with pure joy at all the books.

"Mhm," Maka said softly as she roamed the aisles.

"You haven't changed at all, you've loved books since you were a child, haven't you?" Spirit reminisced. He picked up a heavy hardcover and leafed through it. This appeared to be the wrong thing to say because Maka stiffened up.

"Well, it's not like I can go into any other shops with you. Bookstores are about the only places that will let you in," she said flatly and stiffly.

Spirit gulped, a shiver going down his spine at the feeling of her eyes spearing into his back. So, what could he do but buy his daughter some books and pray she would allow him back into her good graces? Books always seemed to make Maka happy regardless of the circumstances.

"So, should we go to a nice restaurant for dinner?" Spirit asked.

Maka shook her head and pointed to a burger joint where she often went with Soul. The sign glowed overhead, real enough that it looked as if the burger should be raining grease down on their heads, but it was only a picture after all. (1)

After they ordered and received their food, Spirit and Maka sat in a booth by the window. Night had fallen outside and the moon was grinning like some kind of laughing beast. Sometimes, the watching moon unnerved Maka, but tonight was not one of those nights. (It used to creep her out all the time, but Soul had changed her mind.) Tonight, she appreciated its strangeness and admired it outside the window as it painted the world in a dim yellow glow.

"How are your classes going?" Spirit asked conversationally.

"They're alright."

"And Mama, how's she?"

"Ask her yourself."

Spirit blanched. That had been a stupid question! "T-This sure is delicious!" he fumbled.

"Yeah," Maka agreed.

Soul loved these burgers. They were his favorite food aside from a few little things Maka could prepare at home. She decided to buy him one on the way home as an apology for the way she had treated him earlier—tricking him with the partner thing, asking him hypothetical trick questions, bashing him in the head. He would like that.

Thinking of Soul and the way his soul had been behaving lately made Maka lose her appetite. She stood from the table abruptly with a clatter and told her father, "I'll be waiting for you outside."

"What?"

Maka walked around outside a little while her father finished his meal. She had gathered the new books against her chest along with the burger she had bought and had wrapped up for Soul. It was a nice night, but it had grown cold. She was glad she had her overcoat or else she might have been freezing to death. She knew her father would have given her his jacket, but she didn't want to give him any chance to do that. She would have taken Soul's jacket, but not her father's. She was glad she had her own.

"Maka, come over here for a second." Spirit's voice broke through her thoughts. "Look in the window," he said when she joined him before the window.

Maka stared in at the hanging lianas of multicolored ribbons, bows, and other hair ornaments. "What? Ribbons?"

Spirit nodded vigorously and his face had that stupid look on it.

"Oh, jeez, Papa," Maka said before he could really get going. "I'm a little too old to be wearing those anymore."

"Don't be ridiculous. You wore them all the time when you were a little girl," Spirit explained. His face gleamed in the moonlight and Maka saw why her mother had fallen so in love with him despite his player attitude. He was rather handsome and his face looked so little-boy-lost in the moonlight.

Maka recalled how much she herself used to love him. When she was a little girl, she used to always be so excited at the thought of showing her father whatever new ribbons she had gotten from the store and every new little jumper she had.

"It's not like I wear them to school anymore," Maka said flatly, but let her father go into the store and charge back out with two pretty black ribbons for her hair. They reminded her of the ones she wore in Soul's soul to go with the beautiful black dress his soul dressed her in.

"It doesn't matter," Spirit said and tied the ribbon in a bow over her already-bound pigtail. "There all done!"

Maka stared at her reflection in the glass and thought she looked even more like a child than usual, but her father was smiling happily behind her. Now that she thought of it, Soul's soul put ribbons in her hair, too. Maybe they _did_ make her look a little prettier and a little older.

"You look very pretty," Spirit agreed.

Maka clutched the books and burger to her chest. "Thank y—"

"Spirit!" A woman's shrill cry split the night and someone in a tight slinky red dress vaulted out of nowhere to latch onto her father's arm. "Found you! You just ran out on me all the sudden." The woman got up on her toes to kiss her father's cheek. "Hm? Who is this girl?"

Spirit, in his usual spineless fashion, sputtered out, "N-Now's not the best time."

As if seeping into her through the ribbons her father had tied in her hair, Maka felt her childish fear and insecurities swelling up in her chest again. She remembered being a child and seeing her father with another woman for the first time. Those old thoughts raced through her head—_Who is this? Why isn't it Mama? Why isn't it me?_ And Maka couldn't have those old thoughts creeping into her head anymore, so she banished them.

"No," she said coldly as she forced back the tears. "I'm not!"

"Wha—"

"I've got to go."

"W-Wait—"

"Goodbye."

"WAIT!" Spirit shouted and reached out desperately to his daughter. "MAKA!" She slipped through is fingers like smoke and all he was left with was a ribbon clutched in his fingers. Before he even had a chance to catch her, his fast daughter was gone into the night. Well, that could have gone better.

To top it all off, it began to rain.

'_Papa loves you and Mama the most… I really mean it.'_ Her papa's most eloquent and repeated lie. It was drilling into her brain like an arrow.

Maka panted for breath, sucking in more water than air as she rushed through the rain. "He's always… always… telling lies," Maka sobbed to herself as she ran. All around her, the rain crashed down and Death City closed in like the lid on a coffin.

X X X

(1) I wasn't quite sure what was going on in that panel. So I played it out as Spirit wanting to go to a nice restaurant like a typical adult and Maka wanting a greasy burger like a typical kid. I figured that was good.

Questions, comments, concerns?


	3. The Cruel One?

X X X

Soul had changed out his headphones for the record player and was just changing the record when the rain reached its peak and gushed down in buckets. He wondered if Maka had had an umbrella with her. He didn't think so. He would have to make fun of her. She insisted that _he_ was the only one who was stupid enough to forget an umbrella, not her. (In fact, Maka even kept a towel on the coat rack by the door just for Soul for when he forgot his umbrella. She was tired of him tracking water across the floor just to get to the bathroom to get a towel.)

The front door creaked open and Soul turned quickly as Maka rushed in. She was soaked—and he meant _soaked_! A puddle was already forming at her feet, her clothes and hair were plastered to her body, and she was even shivering slightly from the chill.

He grabbed the towel intended for him and put it over her head. "At least get an umbrella, why don't you?" he teased but she didn't even pay that any mind.

She kept her face turned down and murmured, "Oh… the burger's soaked…"

She rustled about in her bag and Soul caught a wonderful whiff of fresh burger and onion that made his eyes water. It was one of his favorites. For a moment, he was jealous that she had gone to his favorite place without him, but her teeth were beginning to chatter. Instead, he pulled out a chair and helped her sit since she was shaking so hard. He even peeled her soaked overcoat off her narrow shoulders, draped it over the back of the chair, and went to put on some water for hot tea.

"Burger?" he repeated.

"I got the one you like," she said through her chattering teeth. She felt Soul's soul reaching out over her body again, protectively swelling around and over her.

"Ah well, it's only a little moist. I can still eat it. Thanks," Soul said. Honestly, he would have eaten it if it had been run over by a truck, scraped off the street, and then given to him. He loved those burgers and Maka had gone through the trouble. He dried her honey-blonde hair with the towel, feeling her entire body shivering violently, and said, "I'm running you a bath right now, all right? Hang on."

"Okay," Maka murmured demurely. It was like someone had sucked the fight out of her.

The teapot began to whistle.

"Ah!" Soul turned to the stove, his hand resting on the top of his partner's head. "Dry the rest yourself."

As he poured out the tea for her, adding honey and sugar like she liked it, he wondered if they were going to wind up fighting again today. They had been fighting a lot lately and he didn't know why. As a second thought, he poured himself a cup, too.

Maka had the towel around her shoulders and was taking her hair down from their trademark pigtails. There was a wet black ribbon laying on the table. He didn't remember Maka wearing ribbons today and she wouldn't have worn ribbons for training anyway. Then… oh, he saw it now. All the pieces came together—being out late, not needing dinner, all the talk of partners. Soul stared down at her and he could practically feel his stupid soul desperately clutching at her. He tried to reel it in.

"He could have been nicer, even if it was a lie," Soul said and picked the wet ribbon off the table.

Maka paused mid-sip of the hot beverage. Her eyes snapped up to his face and a strange worried expression crossed her eyes.

"Seeing as how it was a date and all," Soul said and fingered the ribbon. It was black, just like they were in his soul when she wore that beautiful dress. He had always loved how she looked with ribbons in her hair. He thought they made her look sweet and lovely, like a fairytale princess. Maybe she had figured that out and that was why she chose to wear them on a date. Soul hated to think he had helped her look beautiful for another guy. She was _his partner_, damn it!

His soul dug into her shoulders and she felt his possessiveness. So, Soul thought she had been out on a date with another guy, not her father, and she saw fit to correct him because she had put him through enough today.

Maka smiled at him, lips pressed tightly together. She set her mug down on the table and laid her hand over Soul's where he was holding the ribbon in his thin beautiful pianist fingers. "So," she began. "You'd say that kind of thing too, huh?" She stood up and suddenly their faces were very close together. "But…"

He could taste her breath on his lips and feel the chill of her body seeping through his clothes. Their eyes met, ruby and jade, like precious stones.

"I don't like lies," Maka whispered.

Then, she closed her eyes and pressed her lips to his.

Soul's blood-colored eyes widened and his brain shut down sharply. Maka was kissing him! His meister was kissing him! She tasted like rain and her lips were cold and he didn't even think to push her away because she had been acting so weird lately. He didn't even think to kiss her back. Everything inside him had shut down as if the president had been shot and the vice president was nowhere to be found. Condition was critical!

Then, as fast as she had kissed him, she pulled away.

"Um," she began, "This ribbon… My dad got it for me."

Soul's mind was still shut down, in critical condition. "Huh?" was all he managed.

"But then, this woman turned up and I just…" she trailed off, biting her lower lip. "I just… ran away…" She clutched the towel and the ribbon in her hands. "Cruel, isn't it?" As if Soul was chasing her, Maka hustled off to the bath leaving only her voice and a puddle behind. "Thanks for running the bath," she whispered and then Soul heard the bathroom door close gently.

It was then that Soul realized his hand was empty of the wet black ribbon. "She kisses me and the first thing she talks about is her dad…" Soul whispered. And she hated her dad. What did that mean—had she connected Soul with her father in more ways than just a convenient replacement? Did she hate him now? But then why would she kiss him?

"Who's the cruel one here?"

…

(1) Maka sighed and leaned hard into the vanity once she was locked safely in the bathroom. The bath was already running, filing the room with hot steam and drowning out the sound of her racing heartbeat. She set the black ribbon and the soaked towel on the counter beside her.

So, she had gotten he ribbon from Soul's grasp, but at what cost?

She had just kissed him, her weapon-partner, her best friend, and for what? To get a ribbon from him? What was wrong with her?

She was using him like a rag, twisting his emotions because she could tell how much he cared for her and playing with him like he was some kind of instrument. She had felt his soul explode outward like a firework when their lips met. That meant a lot to Soul, to be kissed by her like that, and she wasn't sure it meant anything to her at all. It was just a way to get the ribbon from him, wasn't it?

Maka stripped off her soaked clothing and decided that she just had to talk to Soul when she got out of the bath. She could take this time to think of exactly what she was going to say to him, but when she got out, she just _had_ to tell him what was going on with her no matter how badly it sounded. With a sigh, Maka sank into the warm water and soaked for hours until the chill was long gone from her bones and she was as wrinkled as a raisin.

Maybe a small part of her was hoping he'd be asleep when she got out and that she couldn't wake him up as she sometimes couldn't after they had had a long day of training. Then, she wouldn't have to talk to him about that ribbon and about her date with her father and about that kiss.

X X X

(1) This scene with Maka wasn't in the doujinshi, but I feel like some part of her perspective was necessary. Yay for creative liberty!

Questions, comments, concerns?


	4. Who Cares if it's a Lie or the Truth?

X X X

Maka emerged from the bathroom in a waft of scented steam at eleven-thirty, long after Soul usually went to bed, but music was still jazzing out from his record player even though the apartment was dark and quiet. Was he just sitting in the dark, listening to music, or had he fallen asleep on the couch or was he waiting up for her? Maka slouched the towel down over her head and padded into the living room in her slippers. Soul's silver head was lolled over the arm of the couch.

Even so, Maka called, "Soul? Are you asleep?" on the off chance he was faking.

He looked so peaceful and cute in his sleep with his silver-white hair feathered against his pale cheeks, his crimson eyes hidden by creamy lashes, and his luscious mouth just barely open to show a hint of pointed teeth. (And Maka had just kissed that mouth. She wondered if he had been able to taste her on his lips afterwards.) The white shirt he wore under his jacket was the same white as his skin. The jazz was playing in the background, softly, softly.

"You'll catch a cold like this, you know," Maka murmured, but Soul just kept on sleeping. He must not be faking after all. That meant she could touch him. It was her little secret, her furtive indulgence, her hidden addiction. She loved to touch Soul, but she could only do it when he was asleep and wouldn't be able to open those crimson eyes of his and look straight into her soul. Maka reached out quietly and fingered a strand of his silver-white hair. It was as soft as silk and so warm in her hands. She loved his hair and his eyes and his teeth, her beautiful albino partner.

In his sleep, the waves of his soul reached out gingerly and caressed her skin.

Maka crouched beside the couch and felt his soul stir. He was awake now and she retracted her hand. Sneaky bastard was still feigning sleep though. "Hey, are you really asleep?" she asked and played along. She laughed quietly when his mouth quirked into part of a smile, giving him away.

He heard her small chuckle and knew he was caught. He had no choice now. Silently, Soul opened his blood-colored eyes and stared up into the face of his meister.

"So you were awake," Maka teased.

Groaning, he sat up and stretched, maintaining his ruse of having been sleeping. "Gah," he grumbled. "What do you want now?"

Maka only sat down beside him on the couch and didn't say anything.

So, Soul took it upon himself to start the conversation he knew they had to have. "You've been weird lately," he began slowly. His lips tingled at the memory of Maka's kiss and he forced his next words out. "Take what happened just now, for instance."

Maka jolted beside him and drew her legs up against her chest. She looked like a child, small and frail, with her damp hair plastered against her cheeks. He wanted to put his arms around her and protect her from the world and Maka felt the tendrils of his soul grasping at her shoulders. Soul wanted to draw her into himself again, devour her so that no one could even look at her. She should have been frightened by that possessiveness, but she wasn't. Soul would never hurt her—never.

"You get mad for no reason," Soul continued.

Maka rested her chin on her knees, hiding her mouth with her hands. She didn't want Soul to see the flesh there tightening as she forced back tears. There was a boulder lodged in her throat, choking her as she tried to breathe. All she could smell was the scent of Soul's skin, of his body.

"You start laughing at the weirdest times."

She curled her toes into the couch cushions and tightened the towel around her shoulders. His crimson eyes, blood-colored eyes, shone in the pale silvery moonlight. High in the sky, the creepy moon gazed down on them, all teeth and blood, just like Soul. Soul was like the moon.

"You've just been weird," he said softly.

Everything Soul said was true. She had been acting weird lately and his overpowering soul didn't count for anything. He had every reason to be getting stronger and trying to defend her. She had been acting like a child, like someone who needed protection.

"There's… nothing wrong with me…" Maka whispered to Soul.

He leaned down so he could look into her face. She was hiding from him, curtained behind her honeyed hair, and there was nothing Soul could do to pull her back onto the stage. Instead, he decided to take center stage himself and reclined back into the cushions while he pondered his words. The soothing sound of jazz music drifted around the room like the music of the night and Soul's lips pulled into a small smile. He knew exactly what to say.

As many times as things had come back to the fight with Chrona—to Soul taking that blow for her, to Maka's guilt, to the thick scar that bisected his chest, to the black blood, to everything that came afterwards—it came back to one other thing just as often, if not more.

"Hey," Soul began, "do you remember when we first met?"

Maka's head snapped up and her eyes went into him like daggers.

"You just came right up to me and asked me to play," Soul continued without looking at his partner. "Well, you know little old twisted me… I'm not really the kind of person who will tell you what I'm really thinking a lot of the time."

Maka lowered her feet to the floor and sat up straighter beside him. He felt her eyes on his face and wondered what kind of expression he was making.

"That time I played for you, I was telling the truth," Soul explained. "I thought that if I played for you, you would get creeped out and run away." He didn't add that everyone else had run away from him, but she knew he was thinking about it. "But you just…"

He didn't have to say it. Maka remembered every single detail of that day as if it had happened yesterday. She reached out to him and asked him to be her partner despite his frightening appearance and dangerous music. She remembered how soft and warm his hand had been in hers, so thin and fragile, and wondering again if this slender pianist could really be a weapon on the inside. Well, he was a lot more than a mere frightening albino or beautiful scythe to her now. Soul was her partner, her roommate, her best friend, her everything.

"And from that point on," Soul took a deep breath and forced himself to say it, "I knew that I liked you."

His words hung in the air and the record skipped a few times in the silence before continuing.

Maka was staring at him, waiting for the words to sink in, and then her mouth fell open and she whispered, "Huh?"

Soul's crimson gaze slid to the side, but he already had his foot in the door so he may as well come in now. "I'm saying that I love you," he repeated.

Maka's expression was stricken. She didn't want to go through this, not now and not ever. She didn't want to hear Soul lie to her, to spout those pretty lies like she saw in cheesy movies. She trusted him with every shred of herself and she couldn't take him lying to her, lying like every other man, lying like her papa.

'_Papa, who is that? Why isn't it Mama? Why isn't it me?'_

She didn't want to love Soul and watch as he cheated and lied like her papa did. She didn't want him to be like her papa. She didn't want him to take her papa's place. She just wanted Soul to be Soul, to play the piano for her and to look at her with those blood-colored eyes and to smile with those pointed teeth.

'_Papa… you told me you loved me…'_

Soul couldn't love her. Her papa loved her, said he loved her, and yet he still replaced her with other women. He still let her run away in the rain. She didn't want Soul to become her papa. She wanted Soul to stay Soul, to remain her precious partner and only that! She couldn't take it if he lied to her!

While all these terrible desperate thoughts raced through Maka's head, Soul sat beside her patiently. He could feel her soul going crazy and calmly rested his cheek on his knee. He just watched her, waited for her to come around, to come back to him.

Finally, Maka spoke. "I told myself I would never… like or fall in love with someone… and that the reason we're together is because we're partners. I'm a meister and you're a weapon. It's as simple as that. I kept telling myself that and trying not to pay attention to what I might really have felt."

Because it was impossible not to fall in love with Soul… All those other girls loved Soul and wanted to be his partner, but he was Maka's and he always turned them down—even the pretty ones with breasts like Blair's and curves like Liz's.

Maka pulled her thin bare legs back against her chest and hugged them tightly. "I'm scared of being lied to," she confessed. "I can't tell someone what I'm feeling. I can never say what's really important. I just keep running away."

Soul was watching her with those eyes of his, as if he could see into every inch of her being. The waves of his soul wrapped around her like a warm blanket, swelling out and holding her gently. Maka wanted to lean into him, into his soul, but she forced herself to stay where she was.

The record playing was the only sound in the room.

"Hm," Soul murmured after a long moment of silence. "Does that mean… you like me too?"

Her head snapped in his direction. "Huh? I didn't say—"

His mouth cut her off.

For the second time that afternoon, the partners kissed and this time Soul had initiated it and it wasn't to distract her. He wasn't playing with her the way she had played with him. Soul wasn't that kind of person. The way he was really feeling always shone through in some small action of his—in his piano playing, in a brush of his fragile hands, in the waves of his powerful soul, and now in his kiss. Maka knew he really cared for her and that he was different than her papa who kissed every woman who looked his way. Maka could taste Soul's awkwardness and the hint of fear that he was doing something wrong.

This was only Soul's second kiss.

His crimson eyes slid open and she was staring right into his gaze. Their lips parted and Soul whispered to her, "For that kiss earlier."

Then, his arms were all around her. One hand was on the back of her neck and he was holding her other hand tightly in his own. It was his soul all over again as he devoured her like he wanted to pull her into himself.

He kissed her again, stronger and with more passion than she thought possible. She couldn't escape him, but then she wasn't sure she even wanted to. The waves of his soul were washing over her, spinning around and pulling her even closer to him. She felt every inch of what he was feeling through his soul—how he didn't want this to end, how much he loved her taste, how he wondered if she expected him to grab her small breasts or something equally ungentlemanly. She wondered if he could sense what she was feeling, too.

Soul's tongue touched her lower lip, begging entrance and she didn't hesitate. She allowed him in and a small little sound escaped her. Maka's small fingers found his shoulder and squeezed tightly. Soul's body was warm and thin. His shoulders felt like the skulls of birds, frail and thin, yet he was her weapon, so strong and powerful. Soul hugged one arm around her back and tried to pull her closer. He deepened their kiss, tongue exploring her mouth and drawing her own tongue into a battle. Maka couldn't even win against him.

She felt lightheaded at the taste and smell of him, at the warmth of his soul around her, at his hands on her neck and threaded through her fingers, at the pureness of his feeling flowing into her. Then, she realized she hadn't been breathing and pushed Soul back sharply so she could gasp for breath.

He looked stunned and his soul prickled. Had he done something wrong?

"Ah, sorry," Maka gasped out. Her face was flushed and she couldn't get in a deep enough breath to sustain her lungs. Soul made her feel all out of breath, like she had just run a mile, and she felt as if something inside her was suddenly too big for her body.

Was that her heart that was beating so fast or was it Soul's? Or was it a combination of both where their souls had joined?

"I was hiding too," he whispered and she felt his warm breath on her face. His crimson eyes glowed in the dark. "Pretending to be uninterested because I didn't think you felt the same." He found her hand and held it tightly. "I'm tired of pretending," he murmured. "I'm tired of being patient."

Maka stared desperately up into his face, into his earnest straight-forward gaze, and felt the tears burning in her throat and eyes. She didn't like lies and she didn't want to hear them. She hated lies! Yet… why did she want Soul to keep telling her beautiful lies like that? Why did she want to hear him say that he loved her over and over again? She sobbed, lifting one hand to her tear-streaked face.

"Why is that making you cry?" Soul asked.

She practically punched him in the face in her haste to push him away. "I'm not crying!" she shouted. "I'm just allergic!" To what, she wasn't sure.

"Huh?" Soul rubbed his brutalized face for the fourteenth time that day, glowering at his meister. He tells her that he loves her and she punches him? What was up with that? It didn't work that way in the movies. She was supposed to fall into his arms and all that good stuff.

"You're always like that!" Maka continued shouting through her tears. "You always say stuff like that with the exact same expression! I hate it when you do that!" She pulled away from him, hugging herself and drying her eyes. "It makes me feel like an idiot," she said and peeked at his expression through her hair.

He was just watching her, crimson eyes soft and honest, without saying anything.

"Ugh, will you stop staring at me?" Maka snapped.

"So if I don't look, it's alright, is it?" Soul asked. Then, without warning, he threw his arms around her and hugged her tightly.

"What do you think you're—?"

"It doesn't matter anymore, does it?" Soul whispered into her hair. His body was so warm against hers and his soul was coiled around both of them, binding them tightly. "Who cares if it's a lie or if it's the truth," he murmured. "I don't care."

Maka wrapped her arms around him, clutching him tightly, and sniffled back her tears. "Why is it that you can make it sound so easy?" she whispered.

He twisted a strand of her honey-colored hair around his long finger. "It's not that easy," he said softly. "It's just that you think too much."

"Shut up, idiot," Maka grumbled, but buried herself closer to Soul's body.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever."

Maka snuggled tighter into Soul's embrace and he coiled himself around her protectively. Maka realized that his soul hadn't been trying to devour her or possess her. It had only wanted to be close to her and now that they were together like this… She inhaled the scent of Soul's skin and closed her eyes. Everything was alright now.

These feelings, they can't be understood by logic or reason…

Maka realized that she had loved Soul from the first moment they met, too.

Maybe they were meant to be. (1)

X X X

(1) All you Tsubasa or XXXHolic readers, "Everything is Hitsuzen."

Questions, comments, concerns?


	5. Soul's New Partner?

Short chapter to close everything up.

X X X

Maka Albarn and her weapon-partner, Soul Eater Evans, were standing _outside_ their first period class when they should have been _inside_ it. It was safe to say it had been a rough and strange week for the pair what with all the extra training and their newfound love amid all the other teenage struggles and assignments from Lord Death. Maka was a little disheveled and her face was flushed, maybe because Professor Stein had literally thrown her out of the classroom when she arrived late with Soul. Soul, on the other hand, was used to being late and skipping class. He was leaning languidly on the wall while Maka fretted beside him.

It wasn't really a cool morning.

"We were late," Maka repeated in despair.

Soul rolled his eyes. Honestly, it was one late to one class. Was it really such a big deal? But he didn't feel like getting hit so he didn't voice this opinion.

"Gah!" Maka continued squawking. "I was aiming for perfect attendance, too. Idiot!" She whirled on Soul some more, flailing. "Why didn't you wake me up?"

He failed to see how this was all his fault. He had fulfilled all his duties this morning. "I _did_ wake you," he grumbled at his partner, "but you went right back to sleep."

"What?" Maka shouted. "Then keep trying until I do wake up!"

"I _did_," Soul protested. "You muttered something about wanting to stay with me longer and fell asleep again."

A small knot of happiness welled up in Soul's chest at the memory of Maka rolling over to snuggle deeper against his chest in his bed. She had been so warm and soft with sleep and Soul was too content to just lay in bed longer and hold her in his arms. He was finally getting everything he wanted from Maka, everything that had been denied to him by his own family. He was getting her love, her acceptance, her warmth at night. He wouldn't have traded her for the world.

Worried his happiness was showing on his face, he covered it with a sharp retort of, "Not to mention hogging all the blankets." Not that he had minded snuggling closer to her to keep warm in the least.

A long shadow slid across the floor beside the partners, slender and creepy. "Maka, umm," Spirit began slowly with much fidgeting and nervous hand gestures. "Umm, about yesterday… sorry…"

Maka hadn't noticed her father's appearance and grabbed Soul by the front of his leather jacket, shaking him to get her point across. "You're the one who said we should sleep together!" She screamed and backed him up against the wall.

Spirit felt all the blood rush into his feet. "Whut?" His precious Maka and that brat Soul? Sleeping together? What, what, what?

"Papa!"

Soul's heart dropped into his stomach. Great, Death Scythe had heard Maka shout that at the top of her lungs. Soul could probably kiss everything that made him a man goodbye because Death Scythe was going to butcher him in the messiest fashion possible.

"MAKA!" Spirit shrieked. "W-W-What did you just say? Sleep together? What?" He paused to gasp for breath, inching closer to his daughter and her partner, and his face was grey with horror. "You're going to? NO! Don't tell me—! You already did—?"

Maka put her back against Soul and pressed him securely between her own body and the wall, both to protect him from her father and to keep him from fleeing like a coward in the face of Death Scythe. "It's none of your business," Maka told her father flatly.

"It's totally my business! It's so my business—!"

"Actually, it's good that you're here now," Maka said finally and cut off her father's shrieking. She brought her hand to the ribbon she had put around her neck in place of her usual tie and pulled one end of it, delicately letting it slip loose from around her throat.

Was that the ribbon her father had given her? Soul wondered. Why was she wearing it as a tie? Why did she even still have it? She hated her father… and ribbons…

She slipped the ribbon from around her neck and held it out to her father. "Here," she said.

Spirit stared down at his daughter as she handed over the black ribbon he had tied in her hair just the night before. His face looked strange, like a child that had been tossed out in the rain, like someone whose present had been thrown out.

"You can have this back," Maka continued. "I don't need it anymore." Her face was beautiful and confident, mouth curved in a lovely smile. "So you can hold on to it," she said and handed over the ribbon to pool like a snake in her father's hand.

Then, she turned to Soul and said cheerfully, "Let's go, Soul. We've got an extracurricular assignment to do."

"Maka! Wha— Why—?" Spirit stuttered out desperately at his daughter's back.

Maka grabbed Soul's hand and pulled him away from the wall and her father. His hand was soft in her own, warm and fragile, the hands of a pianist while Maka's hands were rough from handling Soul as a scythe, she had the warrior's hands.

"We're going to miss first period!" Soul protested. "Are you serious?"

Maka met his eyes, loving the shock in his face. He would never have expected her to skip class. "Hm? It's only one lesson," she said by way of explanation. That and she wanted to get him away from her father before he decided to slaughter poor Soul.

So, Maka pulled her precious partner away and left her father sobbing in the dust.

The lessons that were so important to her, the papa that she loved, and the ribbons that he tied in her hair—none of those things mattered anymore. She was letting them all go. All that mattered now was Soul, her Soul. She would always have him and he would never lie to her or betray her. Soul was Soul, he was different and special and hers. And she wasn't going to keep anything locked up inside her anymore. Now, regardless of how things sounded out loud or in her head, she was going to say them anyway.

Soul's fingers closed around Maka's hand tightly as she pulled him along behind her.

"Hey, Maka," Soul called out and Maka half-turned as they walked to look into his face. "Hypothetical question: say I told you I wanted to pair with someone else. What would you do?"

Without hesitation, she said, "Never going to happen. You know what, Soul?"

His crimson gaze met hers.

The words sounded weird in her head, but Maka wasn't going to lock these things away anymore. She was going to say it anyway because Soul deserved to hear it and she wanted to say it. "I love you," Maka said to her precious Soul with a wide smile. "I love you so much!"

Soul grinned back at her and she felt the waves of his soul washing over her like a warm blanket and she knew he felt the same.

X X X

Just like Rendezvous Pitch Maneuver, this is on a hentai site even though there is no sex in it. It can be found here: http: /www. fakku. net/viewmanga. php?id=3198 If you decide to read, enter without whining or otherwise complaining at your own risk.

Drop me a review and let me know what you think! Are the characters way out of character? Does everybody hate anybody (no one was really hate-worthy in here)? Think I torture Soul and Maka way too much? Are permanently disgusted and can no longer even watch Soul Eater thanks to me? Loved it? Hated it? Are scared for life because you the original doujinshi was so much better? Are traumatized by the thought of novelizing things? (Remember, flames will be used to roast marshmallows and weenies! And I'll most likely flame you back for being silly.) Think I need to do more editing before I post chapters? Post to slow? Chapters are too short? Too long? Yada, yada, yada…

Also, please, check out my first ORIGINAL NOVEL! The Breaking of Poisonwood by **Paradise Avenger**. (Summary: People were dead. When Skye Davis bought me at a slave auction as a birthday present for his brother, I had no idea what my new life was going to be like, but I had never expected _this_. It all started when Venus de Luna was killed and I was to take her place, to become the new savior… Then, bad things happened and some people died. In the heart of the earth, we discovered the ancient being that Frank Davis had found and created and used to his advantage. The _Poisonwood_—)

Questions, comments, concerns?


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